


all grief to refrain

by honey_butter



Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
Genre: Asexuality Spectrum, Character Study, Demisexuality, First Kiss, M/M, Riz Gukgak is Autistic, fabriz can have a little t4t as a treat, i will not stop writing fabriz first kisses, rated t for descriptions of canon typical teen partying, takes place in a vague time post sophomore year while they're still in high school, you can interpret the ending of this as either qpr or dating so whichever floats your boat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:00:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27639235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honey_butter/pseuds/honey_butter
Summary: Normally. Normally Riz was fine with his ineptitude when it came to his feelings because, hey, when you’re saving the world every other goddamn minute, there wasn’t a lot of time to listen to your heart or whatever. It was a distraction and a liability and Riz wasn’t about to put a ton of effort into something he knew he was bad at, even though, looking back on it, if he’d come to this conclusion earlier it would have all been easier.Because, right now, Riz wasn’t saving the world. Riz was kissing his best friend.Or, Riz's thoughts on Fabian and kissing and kissing Fabian.
Relationships: Riz Gukgak/Fabian Aramais Seacaster
Comments: 14
Kudos: 107





	all grief to refrain

**Author's Note:**

> hello, as your friendly neighborhood autistic demisexual nb lesbian let me just uhhh *slides this fic that i've just smooshed all of my headcanons into across the table*
> 
> anyway. this is just me projecting onto riz as per usual about the complexities of friends and relationships and feelings. content warning for descriptions of a meltdown and some harmful stimming that is just exactly how i stim during meltdowns. also i'm not sure if this counts but, while gender dysphoria is not graphically described nor is it the focus of this fic, it is discussed briefly. fabian and riz are both transmasc/trans men.
> 
> of course, this is all based on my relationship to demisexuality and autism and everyone's interactions with sexuality and neurodivergence are different so please keep that in mind while reading!
> 
> title is from the sea shanty here's a health to the company, and lyrics are used within the fic.

Riz was very good at solving problems. He’d figured out Kalvaxus’s evil plot and the mystery of the Shadow Cat and had also found old Mrs. Akta’s (normal) cat based on one clump of fur and a burnt down gas station (of the three, he had to say he was most proud of the last one. He’d gotten a year’s supply of cookies out of it). At school he was known as, well, he was known as the briefcase kid, but he was also the detective-guy who’d helped save the world and one of those was arguably cooler than the other, and, not to brag but, he’d helped his whole class pass Intro to Forensic Detective Work for Rogues. He had a bonkers wisdom score,  _ of course _ he was great at figuring things out.

All this being said, Riz was not, in fact, good at sorting through his own feelings.

He sucked at it, actually. Like. Royally sucked. Leviathan-ribbon-dancing-plan-with-Kristen-while-completely-wasted sucked. 

Normally. Normally Riz was  _ fine _ with his ineptitude because, hey, when you’re saving the world every other goddamn minute, there wasn’t a lot of time to listen to your heart or whatever. It was a distraction and a liability and Riz wasn’t about to put a ton of effort into something he knew he was bad at, even though, looking back on it, if he’d come to this conclusion earlier it would have all been easier. 

Because, right now, Riz wasn’t saving the world. Riz was kissing his best friend. 

They were at a party, at Fabian’s house. Ever since the whole thing at Ostentatia’s freshman year, or, really, since the time his classmate’s mom had hired a clown for a fifth birthday party and Riz had shot at it with the little toy gun that he’d jury-rigged to fire actual bullets, Riz had hated parties. They were loud and uncomfortably sticky and you couldn’t control whether people bumped into you or not which was something Riz was  _ really _ not a fan of, plus, you know, trauma. But his friends all seemed to enjoy parties, even Adaine was warming up to them, so he’d gone anyway, because the only thing he hated worse than being attacked by a fake significant other was being left out.

It hadn’t started bad. Fig and Gorgug opened the night with a set and Riz actually enjoyed their music. He’d spent time with Kristen, before she got too drunk to be fun for sober him anymore, and then had wandered aimlessly, nearly falling in the pool to avoid the throng of people in Fabian’s backyard. Riz hadn’t touched alcohol or drugs since Spring Break. It just… wasn’t him, and his meds  _ did not _ agree with them at all, so he was stuck in a party with a sea full of drunk and drugged and buzzed high schoolers. 

He clutched the red solo cup he’d filled with coffee that he’d made himself in Fabian’s too expensive machine that was only ever used when Riz slept over. It’s instinct, at this point, to keep to the shadows when he’s uncomfortable. That way he can slip away easier, melt out of focus and into a puddle of boy soup in the darkness. Or something. 

Riz was also really tired. He hadn’t slept in, uh, two? No, three days? And it was starting to catch up with him, no matter how much coffee he drank.

He was just about to pass out or give in and try the new magical drug Fig had shoved in his face earlier that evening when Fabian found him. Or, rather, when Riz found Fabian. He was staring into the water of his pool, no drink in sight, just watching his reflection flicker in the rainbow lights of the party.

“Um, hey, hey Fabian,” Riz said, slipping over and peering into the water too. “Whatcha lookin’ at?”

“The Ball!” Fabian exclaimed, a big, fake smile spreading over his cheeks. “How are you enjoying my party?”

“Well it’s, um. A party?”

Fabian laughed, shortly and breathily and not nearly as soul shattering as the real thing, “You’re so funny, The Ball.”

“Um. Okay. You’re not drunk are you?” Gods, Riz should really just find Adaine. She would at least be sober like him and they could make fun of all of the drunk people. And then they could sneak into Hallariel’s sensory deprivation chamber and fall asleep together, whispering about some academic theory that would leave Riz’s cheeks sore from smiling. That’s what he should’ve done.

Instead, Fabian’s fake smile and sad eye pulled him in, even as he said, “No, I’m not drunk,” like he was disappointed in himself. 

Riz hated seeing Fabian sad.

“What’s wrong?” He slipped his hand into Fabian’s, a whole size category larger than his and warm and calloused from fighting. It was A Thing they’d been doing lately, holding hands when the other person needed it. Sometimes, in the right light, it made Riz’s heart feel like it was a baby bird, trying to fly for the first time. Sometimes, it was just a kind gesture for a friend. Riz wasn’t good at telling them apart.

“Nothing, The Ball.” 

“You’re lying.”

“Yeah.” Fabian sighed, squeezing Riz’s hand absentmindedly, brow furrowed. Riz wanted to smooth the worry from them.

“You can tell me.”

“Not here. Do you want a break?”

“Trying to get me to abscond with you to your boudoir?” Riz asked, grinning toothily, if only to get Fabian’s shoulders to relax.

It didn’t work.

“Well—” Fabian cut himself off, walking back towards the house instead and pulling Riz along. “Come on.”

The walk to Fabian’s room was awful. His first floor was even more crowded than the backyard, and Riz’s bare hands and neck were brushed and elbowed so many times his hackles were raised from the contact of unknown skin against his own. Fabian didn’t notice, just pulled him further and further into the house until they reached the marble staircase that Kristen had warded earlier against entrance for anyone but the Bad Kids (and company). 

It’s weird that Fabian’s so quiet. Usually, at parties like this, he’d boast and scream to be heard over everyone else. Although there was never any competition, Fabian was always the most remarkable person in any given place.

And see, it was thoughts like that which made Riz want to curl up into a little ball and hide under his desk. He couldn’t tell if Fabian was remarkable because he was his best friend or because Riz wanted something… more. What more entailed he  _ really _ didn’t know. He’d thought, vaguely, about kissing before. How awkward it would feel and how wet it would be and he’d cringed so hard he’d dropped his favorite mug. Did he think Fabian was remarkable because he wanted to kiss him? Did that mean Riz wanted to kiss… Gorgug? Or Ragh? Just because he thought they were pretty cool, too?

The little part of his brain that perked up in purely clinical interest every time his friends talked about boning down piped up something about how pretty cool wasn’t remarkable. And the fact that his only examples of pretty cool people were dudes. Riz told that little part to shove it.

He blinked and the door to Fabian’s bedroom snicked shut, blessedly dampening the sounds of the party downstairs. Fabian pulled his hand away to rake it through his hair and then tore his eyepatch off for good measure.

“This thing is fucking itchy.” He’d taken to not wearing an eyepatch at home, or around the Bad Kids, and it was obvious that it only made him more uncomfortable when he put it on to go out.

“What’re you upset about?” Because Riz couldn’t let it wait any longer, even though he’d just now been thrown back into the reality where Fabian had been staring at his pool like he was contemplating jumping in and never coming up for air.

“I don’t— Gah, this is not going to go well, The Ball.”

“...What?”

Fabian looked at him, a little bit manic, his hair no longer arranged in its artful curls. “I. You’re. You have pizza sauce on your chin.”

“What?” Riz asked, concerned now, because had he really been walking around a party with sauce on his face and no one had said anything? And Fabian was only telling him  _ now? _

“Here, let me.” Fabian took a step towards him, bringing his hand up to sweep along the bottom of Riz’s chin.

Riz’s mouth fell open, subconsciously, breathing in the air that smelled distinctly like Fabian this close. Seasalt and honey and sweat and fancy elven wine. Riz inhaled, deep, trying to soak up the smell so that a little piece of it would sit wedged in his soul forever. Even after Fabian eventually left.

But then Fabian was kissing him, soft lips sliding over his own even as the hand on his chin tightened, tipping his face up. It was a nice kiss? Riz wasn’t sure what the criteria for that is, but it has, well, two pairs of lips and an awful closeness and the warm solidity of Fabian before him. Maybe his kissing spiral from earlier was actually important after all.

Except the problem was, Riz had never come to a conclusion about his feelings i.e. kissing and i.e. kissing Fabian, specifically. Did he like it? He’d just decided it was a nice kiss. Did that mean he wanted to do it again? They were still kissing so there wasn’t really an again yet just a now and Riz was doing absolutely nothing, standing stiff as a board under Fabian’s hands. Should he kiss him back? Did that mean he’d have to kiss him again?  _ Does he want to kiss him again? _

Did Riz like Fabian? Like him in a way that meant dates to the movie theater and Basrar’s and the beach like Riz knew Gorgug took Zelda on. Making out to the sounds of generic, dime-a-dozen tv playing over Fabian’s stupid rich computer, made significant because it was on while Riz was with him. Holding hands and cuddling and kissing, like this. Doing other stuff that… that Riz had never thought about in any respect outside of scientific fact in mandatory health and wellness classes. Would he want to do that stuff with Fabian? Did liking him mean that he had to want to do that stuff? Had to want to kiss him and romance him? Or could it just mean the trips to the movie theater and the soda fountain, spending time with Fabian and holding his hand like he already did, already knew he loved to do?

“I’m sorry,” Fabian was saying. And it just occurred to Riz that they hadn’t been kissing for a while now and Fabian had pulled entirely away from him.

He missed his warmth. Missed his smell. Oddly missed the way his hands and lips had felt on his face. But did that mean he’d do it again?

“You don’t need to be,” Riz said, although it probably came out a garbled mess because he couldn’t focus on anything but the train of thoughts barreling down at breakneck speed for a gap in the tracks.

“I do. I should have, I should have asked before, before I—”

“No. It’s okay.”

Was it? Riz didn’t know Riz didn’t know Riz didn’t know.

“You aren’t.” Fabian breathed, deeply, “You aren’t mad at me, are you, The Ball?”

“Call me Riz.” Why did he say that? Too many questions, Riz was shutting down. He was shutting down and the world was pushing in and Riz had to do something, had to do something. 

His hands, on their own, pushed into his chest. Hard enough to hurt. And then moved to his face, massaging the skin deep enough that Riz felt his teeth cut into the flesh of his mouth. He kept pressing, though. It calmed him, made his heart stop racing quite so hard. At least he wasn’t hitting his face anymore. That would’ve been even more awkward. Not that Riz hadn’t stimmed in front of Fabian before, he’d just never meltdown-stimmed after a surprise kiss from a person he’d loved for years because he wasn’t sure whether he loved him in a friend way or a more way and what that would mean for them and and and. Riz kept pressing.

“Hey, The Ba— Riz. Is there anything, can I do anything?” Fabian stood before him with arms hanging uselessly in the air, stretched out to him like he was about to pull his body close.

Riz had a thing about being held. Not like “a thing” like Kristen talked about too much, but “a thing” like how he loved it when his mom wrapped him up to rock him to sleep, loved the feeling when his friends picked him up and put him in whatever available bag they were carrying. He loved when Kristen would smoosh his face with her hands for minutes at a time, or when Adaine would wrap an arm around his shoulders, or Fig would lay down directly on top of him, or when Gorgug would quietly pull him to his chest. Riz loved when Fabian hugged him, or picked him up. There was something… different about the way he touched Riz, tender and like he was holding his breath. Riz had refused to look too closely at it before, now he couldn’t ignore it anymore.

He couldn’t stop pushing on his face, but he did stumble into Fabian’s outstretched arms, pressing his head into his chest. Riz also couldn’t really talk like this. His mouth refused to open and his throat closed up and his eyes stung from trying to get words out. Hopefully Fabian would understand he’s not just trying to head butt him, that this is his way of saying sorry and also asking for help.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, I’ve got you.” Fabian said, pulling him into his chest without anymore prompting.

It was comfortable there, safe. Riz knew he was more than able to take care of himself, to face this… whatever this was on his own. But he didn’t  _ have to _ because Fabian was there with him and it would all be okay in the end. Even if Riz never wanted to kiss him again. Even if he did.

They stood there in silence for a while, the bass from the music downstairs rattling the world just slightly even as Riz focused on Fabian’s breathing and tried to match it with his own. Once Riz was mostly calmed down, hands falling from his face to wrap around Fabian’s sides, he heard Fabian’s voice start singing softly. For all of his confidence and bluster, Fabian had always been nervous about his singing voice.

“It’s not deep enough, The Ball. I sound like a girl,” he’d confessed to him, one morning a few months ago, when Fig had tried to get him to teach them a shanty and he’d refused.

Riz understood. He really, really understood. He’d also struggled, for many years, with how his voice was sometimes too high, too wispy. Only after years of doctors appointments and puberty blockers and scary testosterone shots and transmutation spells, was he finally comfortable with his own voice. Even though he knew Fabian had gone through all of those things as well, he couldn’t help but be jealous of his end result being a deep, booming voice, compared with Riz’s slightly nasally one.

Now, though, Fabian quietly sang the lyrics of a shanty Riz vaguely recognized from their time in Leviathan, his chin moving where it was resting on his chin. “Kind friends and companions come join me in rhyme…” Fabian kept singing the song, the words floating around Riz’s ears and lodging in his lungs as he inhaled. The chorus came up, admittedly weaker with just one voice but so much closer to his heart, so much more intimate, than anything Riz had ever heard leave Fabian’s lips before. 

Fabian’s voice broke slightly at the second verse, but he kept going, smooshing Riz further into his chest. “Here's a health to the wee lad that I love so well/For style and for beauty there's none can excel/There's a smile on his countenance as fair as can be/There is no man in this wide world as happy as me…” Riz felt his cheeks heat just slightly. He might not know this song as well as Fabian did, but he could recognize that Fabian had changed the lyrics to talk about, well, to talk about him. 

When Fabian held him like this, sweet, soft voice singing about him, just for him, Riz was able to let out the breath he had been holding since he’d arrived at the party so long ago.

“I love you too,” Riz interrupted as Fabian launched into the chorus again, pressing the words into his crinkly shirt.

He immediately stopped singing, which made Riz start to tense up again, but Fabian didn’t push him away. Riz was keenly aware of the feeling of his chest rising and falling from where he was pressed up against it.

“In the song,” Riz continued. “It said—”

“I know what it said.”

“Are you—? I mean, did you…?”

“Yes, I, uh, yes, I meant it. It wasn’t just a song.”

“You should sing more,” Riz said, because it was true. Fabian had a lovely voice, and it didn’t sound anything like a girl’s. It sounded like Fabian’s, and Fabian was a boy who was slowly, but faster than he should be, becoming a man. 

“I… thank you. I’m sorry. For before. I didn’t mean to make you, ah, freak out.”

“It’s not your fault. I just got overwhelmed.” It’s easier to say when Riz doesn’t have to look him in the eye, easier to admit this part of himself. There wasn’t anything wrong with it. Riz  _ knew _ meltdowns were just as natural for him as breathing, but he also knew what it looked like to an outside eye. He’d been sent to the nurse on more than one occasion throughout his school career for self harm when he had, in fact, just been harmful stimming. Which still wasn’t great, but didn’t warrant him being placed under a week long watch.

“I know. But, I kissed you. I shouldn’t have done that.”

The thoughts and questions threatened to all come slamming in again, but Riz pressed his nose into Fabian’s shirt and held onto the feeling of peace that Fabian’s voice had brought over him. He was vaguely aware that this was among the fastest times he’d come down from a meltdown before.

“I don’t… I love you, Fabian. I think I might, maybe want to kiss you again? But I can’t, I don’t know right now and it’s all so confusing.” And then the floodgates were open, and Riz was pouring everything out, “I like it when I hold your hand and when we fall asleep together. And I like spending time with you and you’re, gods, you’re my  _ best friend. _ I want to, I want to spend all of my time with you. Well, maybe not all. That might be weird. But most? I think I would kiss you again. I’m not sure but I think so. I probably would if you asked me to.”

Fabian interrupted him, “Don’t do it only for me.”

“No, no! I wouldn’t be? I don’t know if I would ever… need that, um, if it weren’t you? I can’t, you’re the only person I’ve ever thought about kissing. But when we’re actually doing it, I don’t know… I liked being close to you like that.”

Fabian hummed as Riz quieted again, like he knew he wasn’t done. Of course he knew he wasn’t done. They were Fabian and Riz, Riz and Fabian. After adventuring and high school-ing beside each other for the past four years, they knew what every movement, every look meant.

“I can’t tell if I want to date you or if I want to, just, know that you’ll always prioritize me? And I don’t know if that is the same thing as dating or being best friends or… what but I like spending time with you and I like, um, er, don’t take this the wrong way, but touching you and I, I’d like more of that.”

Silence fell over them again and Riz was starting to get a little bit antsy. Fabian wasn’t grappling him and he could easily get away, but he didn’t really want to even though he was getting nervous because he wasn’t able to see what expression Fabian was wearing at the moment. 

“I should’ve picked a better song,” Fabian said at last, chest huffing out a heavy breath that warmed the air around the tips of Riz’s ears.

“What?”

“I should’ve picked a better song… the one I sang is about, uh, goodbyes and stuff.”

“Oh.”

“I wasn’t trying to say goodbye to you.”

“I didn’t think you were.”

“Good.” Quiet, then, “And, er, Riz?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t care if you don’t want to kiss again. Or if you do. I mean. I want to but. I don’t care either way. And, I, well, I want all of those things too. The hand holding and the time together and the, uh, well, you’re very important to me, Riz.”

“You’re important to me too, Fabian.”

“Then, uh, then the rest of the stuff doesn’t matter to me. We’ll figure it out. Or we won’t, and we’ll keep being best friends and that’s okay. The Ball. Riz. Whatever you want… I want that too.”

“Oh.” Riz said, stupidly. He hadn’t realized it, but he’d been operating under the assumption that if he’d said no to those things Fabian would lose interest in him. Would leave him for good this time.

As if he could sense his thoughts, Fabian just squeezed him impossibly tighter against his chest. “I’m not giving up on you yet. Or ever.”

“I love you,” Riz said, because it was true even if he didn’t know whether or not this love meant kissing or romance or sex or anything beyond what it had been before they’d come up Fabian’s marble stairs and left the party behind.

“I love you too.” 

Fabian kissed the curls on the top of Riz’s head. Riz’s heart felt like it might burst. And it didn’t matter anymore, the specifics of this thing between them, because it grew with every breath Riz took and every touch of Fabian’s hands on him. It didn’t matter, because, at the end of the day, Fabian would be there for him no matter what. And Riz might not know what exactly he wanted from this, but he knew he wanted to keep Fabian this close to him forever, and as long as he got that he would be happy.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you liked this!! i'm on tumblr at [labelleofbelfastcity](https://labelleofbelfastcity.tumblr.com/) if you want to stop by and say hi!!
> 
> don't be shy to leave a comment!! i'm currently working on a much longer fabriz au and a gorgug fic that i should've been finishing up tonight but instead i wrote this in like. two hours. so. oh also i apologize for any typos, i am very tired but also very happy with this so there was only minimal editing done.


End file.
